


Love's What you Left me With

by LethalLittleSpiderX



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-02-21 15:35:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18705208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LethalLittleSpiderX/pseuds/LethalLittleSpiderX
Summary: Their relationship hadn't lasted but fate saw fit to cross their paths again.





	1. Chapter 1

It had been years. Their split was amicable yet heart breaking. Bond had moved on, retired from the service and taken on the responsibility of his own private security consultancy. It was highly successful, much to his surprise and over the last few years had grown exponentially. It was word from his ‘old friends’ that initially alerted him to Natasha’s disappearance. During his spare time, he tracked her down to the middle of Cambodia. Under the cover of darkness, he slipped in undetected. The prison guard was easily dispatched and he let himself into her small, dank prison cell. Head to toe he was dressed all in black.

 

She may have known it was him from his shadow, or she might have not. A lot had changed for him. First was that horrendous limp that he’d done his best to disguise, a career ending injury that plagued him with daily pain, knocked him down and inch in height and required considerable rehabilitation. It’d been enough for him to finally hang up the Walther from ‘official business’. Hidden underneath his balaclava was his now greyed hair. Finally, there was his weight. It was almost impossible to keep completely trim and the dreaded middle-aged spread had taken hold. Smoking and drinking didn’t help, neither did his considerable appetite. It was something he was cursing as he made his way here though as he’d proven, the old man still had it.

 

Stooping down he did everything he could not to look her in the eye. Instead a large knife was withdrawn and expertly cut through her bindings, making quick and easy work of everything that held her captive. Reaching into his holster, he took out his Walther and pressed it against her. It was her way out now and he knew that him lingering would only hurt her pride further. It would only have her cursing him for depriving her of any independence.

 

However, he did stop at the door, turning back briefly, blue eyes on blue for a moment. “The children are safe in the usual spot.” He still loved her and just like other old flames he believed that would never stop. With that sentence and thought he was gone, leaving her to her own devices to get out, trusting her to have it in hand.

 

Somewhere in the back of her head she probably knew this was her last mission.   Just not exactly like this.  She was tired.  No heart left in the fight, only a stiff sense of duty.

 

And it just wasn’t enough any more.

 

Her mind was drifting when the faint noise from outside of her cell pulled her from her thoughts.  She didn’t bother looking up.  Didn’t care who it was.  Her time was done and the truth was she was ready for it.

 

In spite of the changes to his step she recognized it a second before his scent hit her.  Natasha twitched in recognition.  Why was he here?  They had parted.  He had gladly moved on.  And aside from the one time she was aware of, they hadn’t been near each other again.  Until now.

The way he smelled was enough to kick her back to that memory.  Of standing in the hotel lobby, catching a whiff of him in the breeze of the open doors.  He was standing there, sun falling on him like some sort of beacon, facing partly away from her.  He hadn’t looked up.  Hadn’t seen her.  She had taken a few steps forward to speak before his head had come up, a smile on his face and stepped forward to catch another woman in his arms.  Smiling down at her until he’d stolen a quick kiss from her.  As always he’d easily filled her spot in his life.

 

It had hurt so badly that she had made sure Isaiah kept track of him.  Not to tell her, but to make sure her missions would keep her out of his path.  To her knowledge it had stayed that way.  Until now.  Why?  She was nothing to him.  Especially not after all this time.

 

When he crouched down next to her she refused to look up, forever grateful at the dimness of the room so he couldn’t see how badly she was hurt.  See the cuts that marked her body.  The blood that matted in her greying hair.  The black eye covered by a fall of dirty hair.

 

Immunity and healing had left her not long after their split.  Something she would never have told him about.  All these years she had done this on skill and determination.  This time it hadn’t been enough.  The only reason she hadn’t entirely given up was knowing the kids still needed out of here.

The hurt at their parting had faded with time.  So she thought.  But it flared back to life with a vengeance.  She wanted to ask  _why_.  No doubt her jaw was broken and her lips were no better.  The words might not happen even if she tried.  Not that she would actually ask.  They’d made their decisions and that was that.

 

_But why was he here?_

 

The gun pressed into her and her hands closed around it instinctively.  She knew it for what it was by feel alone.  He rose then, not speaking.  Was there really anything to say?

 

Still cradling the weapon in her hands, ignoring the broken fingers, she stared down at it until she heard him pause.  Natasha looked up then, blue eyes meeting before she looked away.  Relief made her shoulders sag when he spoke.   _They were safe._   That’s all that mattered.  It was done.  Tears welled in her eyes for the first time since she’d been here.

 

“Thank you,” she whispered, not knowing if he heard her or not.

 

The time had come.  The last mission.  The world no longer needed her.  She could rest.  Struggling to her feet she rose from the chair, shuffling ungracefully to the door.  She could find peace, but not here.  Now she could at least choose her final resting place.

 

It’d taken him a few days to track back to Phnom Penh, check into his hotel, and take care of some remaining affairs. The day after he felt uneasy and at unrest. It’d been years since he’d seen her and for the most part she hadn’t changed while he’d gotten quite obviously older. In some ways he was glad that he’d covered himself up but there was no denying who it was that’d bailed her out of trouble. His mind was so busy going around in circles that he knew he had to get out of the rut that he was in. There were far too many memories of the past and what happened between them that were brought up again. Things that he hadn’t expected. For the most part he thought he’d forgotten about it like he had everything else but it never worked that way for him.

 

So Bond did what he does best. A few drinks turned into a few more and the next day, even with a terrible hangover, he went to the nearby golf course. It was the only way he could unwind and forget even if he spent more time in the buggy than he did walking these days. Internally he cursed himself for being so sentimental. Once the day was finished, he packed up his suitcase and returned back to London. Part of him wondered if the gun would be back in his new flat, just waiting for him. The other part of him didn’t care if he ever saw it again. It was a relic of the past, his past, and in some ways their shared past. It was gone and done with now.

 

A week or two later, his mind was more clear but work was busy and with the time sink came more success. His team was small but trusted, handpicked by him. Unfortunately there was less work for him now and more time spent at a desk but it was something. Besides, he got to stretch his legs by going out and meeting various people. Hardly his favourite thing, but it got him out and it wasn’t the type of work that required working through and cutting miles of red tape and bureaucratic nonsense. Even if it did, he’d brought in Marie-Elise Arnaud to do that kind of work for him and she excelled at it.

This particular night he was left alone, locked in his office, with an open bottle of bourbon and pouring over some assorted intelligence reports that were fed through to him. Funnily enough these were from MI6, a favour for a long-term friend, a certain female M. who’d worked her way up through the ranks, though he still didn’t let her live down the fact that she’d shot him once on the field the odd occasion they did meet.

 

Since she hadn’t truly believed she would leave the place alive, she hadn’t exactly planned for it.  It had taken her far longer than usual to get to any sort of civilization.  Once there she had taken a few days to gather herself, heal well enough to move without feeling as if she might die.  Once she could move without feeling as if she was  going to come apart she arranged for his gun to be sent back to him then arranged to go back to the place she called home these days.  Or as close to home as she got since they’d split.

 

It had been a handful of years ago that she’d sold everything, every property and item of interest.  Taken the money and distributed it to her web, leaving only a small amount to survive on.  That done she’d gone back to the place she’d nearly died, Phuket.  Needs were very simple here.  Even simpler because she lived on the property of the all female monastery that had helped her in her missions so many times.  Technically the hut she occupied belonged to them, but everyone here considered it hers.   Perhaps if she had any kind of religion, she would have joined the monks.  But she was still the Godless Russian as Matthew always called her.

 

Her name appeared no where in public records any longer.  She stayed completely off the grid.  Only a small number of people knew where to find her.  Her only personal items were clothing, a few weapons, and a handful of photos and trinkets she carried with her from what she considered a past life. Days were spent helping the women and any of the souls that filtered through this place.  If there was nothing to be done she spent her days on the beach either wandering the shoreline or reading.  Since she’d returned none of the other women had come to speak with her though they no doubt knew she was back.  Apparently they weren’t up to dealing with the darkness that has finally swallowed her whole.

 

While she was sitting in the sand, listening to the waves her messenger was making his way to the office he’d been instructed to find.  A soft knock at the door and his hesitating voice said, “Mr. Bond?  James Andrew Bond?”  The small box in his hands was held out.  “I was told to give it directly to you.  Preferably alone.”  A lift of his shoulders said he didn’t understand why but was doing his job.  Inside was the carefully packaged gun.  No note.  No return address.  Just the carefully cleaned and packaged weapon.

 

Despite retirement, Bond still had enemies dotted around the world and the simple fact of the matter was that he couldn’t be too careful. Cameras dotted around the office alerted him to the movement and presence of an unknown person which was unusual at this time of night given everyone had already left. His hands were already on a weapon, prepared for anyone that might have come to make his day worse, however the way it was made worse was not what he’d come to expect.

Immediately he knew that this was all Natasha’s work and doing. He didn’t know the man standing opposite but he’d said enough. Slowly he undone the box. Inside was his old Walther, cleaned and placed neatly inside. There was no note, nothing. Just the gun. It brought a bittersweet smile to his lips. While he could have gone to great lengths to do forensics on the box it was contained within but he knew her better than that. She didn’t want him to find her so it would remain that way. Besides, given the fact that she was still out there saving children, he had a hunch that she probably lived in South East Asia permanently and his instinct was rarely wrong.

 

There were a million and one questions he could ask but he couldn’t trust the messenger. The box and the gun was a message: she was safe. That was all he needed to know. “Thank you.” The old, grizzled spy in him had him bite his tongue on asking any further questions. Perhaps his reticence would get back to her, who knew if she would understand it? But maybe she didn’t care beyond returning his weapon.

 

The Walther was placed back in the drawer and locked away where it would remain. When he was finished, he turned back to the messenger. “I have only one request. Tell her to remember the last words of the message I left. She’ll know what that means.”

 

The kid looked awkwardly at his feet a moment before looking Bond in the eye.  “She doesn’t come around much but I run packages for her sometimes.  Usually to one place.  A school I think.”  He shrugged, but something in his face shifted to guarded.  The kid studied him a moment then shook his head.  “Nice lady.”  With that he said nothing else then slipped away quietly.  It wasn’t his place to get involved.  Maybe he’d pass it along to Clint.

 

Thoughts of him plagued her heavily these days.  Whether it kept her from drowning entirely her held her under until the last moment before letting her head clear the surface she didn’t know.  The callous that had grown over the wounds left behind was only as good as the distance she kept from him it seemed.  Too close and it ripped open making her painfully aware of the things from the past she’d rather forget.  Why was it she could only forget the things they took from her, but never the things that caused her pain?

 

Like the fact she had been trying to rid herself of her difference when they split.  Tony had worked on a formula to strip away the effects of what the Red Room had given her.  To make her a mere mortal once again.  She’d said nothing to him for fear it would fail and he would be disappointed.  For a while she thought it had.  Then suddenly it became apparent it worked, but by then it was all for nothing.

Most days she didn’t regret it because it meant she could finally truly die.  These last few years the idea held more merit than was healthy. Not that it changed those facts.  Or the fact she was tired of fighting.  Tired of feeling as if nothing she did made enough of a difference.  What was the point of fighting a battle you couldn’t win?

 

Usually the sound of the waves was soothing.  Now though, now the sound felt like sandpaper against her skin.  With a sigh she heaved herself up intent on returning to her small shack.  She would still be able to hear it, but not as loudly. Maybe she could distract herself with something there.

 

Bond knew the place and it was a fond memory that put a smile on his face. When they’d parted it’d been through a mutual agreement, a very painful split, but one that hadn’t soured him over her at all. It was different to most all the other relationships he’d shared over the years. It was good to know that the school was still standing and that Natasha hadn’t lost her philanthropy and dedication to the cause she found which gave her meaning.

 

“She is,” Bond agreed, leaving the young man to depart. On the cameras he watched that he did do as he said, noting that he didn’t touch anything and left the way he came in. Once he disappeared from view, Bond poured himself another bourbon and took a long, hard swig of it. Apparently it was enough to drive him to contemplation and turn off his laptop for the night. Instead he switched the television on his office and put on the news in the background.

 

Thirty minutes passed when curiosity got the better of him and he retrieved the box from where he’d stowed it. Hacking away at the box, he took a slice of the wood and made his way down to their in built laboratory. In there, he put it under the analyser which in return gave him a species of tree where it was taken from. The computer spoke out loud.

 

“Shorea curtisii is a tree native to Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand and Indonesia.” It wasn’t as helpful as he thought and in fact only confirmed what he already knew. With his glass in one hand and the box in the other, he examined it further, a knife digging into the lining. Again, he repeated the steps and placed it in the analyser where the computer spoke out loud to him.

 

“Thai silk. It is produced from Thai silkworms. The weave suggests the Esaan area in the North East of the country of the ikat, also known as, Mudmee. My analysis suggests that this originated from Chonnabot with a specificity of 98%.”

 

Downing the drink, he thought he was onto something.

 

“Tell me about Chonnabot.”

 

Pause.

 

“Processing.”

 

Pause.

 

“Chonnabot is a district in Northeastern Thailand with a population estimate of 50,000 people. There are thirteen villages, some which are connected via Thailand’s infamous silk road. Chonnabot is famous for Mudmee silk as we have already established—”

 

“No need to get smart.”

 

“—I do not understand that request.”

 

“Of course you don’t,” he muttered under his breath. “Stop.”

 

“End.”

 

“Is there a satellite over Chonnabot and the general vicinity?”

 

“There is.”

 

“Hmm. What about airports? Specifically how would someone travel from Cambodia to Chonnabot?”

 

Pause.

 

“Processing.”

 

Pause.

 

“Khon Kaen airport is the closest airport to Chonnabot and is well connected to Cambodia. Of course this would not prevent anyone from driving to Chonnabot.”

 

“I doubt she drove.”

 

“She?”

 

“Natasha Romanoff — look, that isn’t important. She’s a ghost. If you’re inferring we should search through a manifest, that isn’t going to work. But what will work…”

 

Bond pulled out his phone. Why he still had a picture saved of her, he didn’t know, but he uploaded it into the system.

 

“Run a cross check with that image as it is and also aged by ten years. Check all satellites flying over Chonnabot for the last two weeks. The woman in this image is injured, potentially showing physical signs of it too. Track her whereabouts and retrieve a location for me.”

 

“That will take me twelve hours.”

 

“Good. I’ll go home and return in the morning.”

 

“Understood.”

 

With that Bond turned and left the office for the night.

 

Her feelings for him were tangled up, just as they had always been. He could evoke more emotion out of her than nearly anyone else and he could hurt her as no one else ever could. While their parting had been mutual it hadn’t been easy. _Nothing_ about it had been easy for her. Somehow at the resort he had caught her, kept her from falling into that dark ocean that had nearly sucked her under. He’d ripped away the comfort of numbness and when they’d parted ways it had left her open and raw. And the only way she could get past the grief of it all was to close herself off again. To hand Natasha over to the Widow.

 

Unlike him she had never been able to simply move on to the next person, pretend those she cared about never happened or diminish their importance. In the end they were two different people and it was part of what drove them apart.

 

She spent her days quietly, mostly in solitude. She had few visitors. Occasionally one of the female monks that inhabited this place would visit but they had given her wide berth since she had been back. That was all right with her. Right now she didn’t much feel like talking to anyone. Even the satellite phone she had was turned off and had been since she returned. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for her to go MIA for days at a time and no one would panic just yet. Besides, very few people knew where she was or how to get in touch with her. It was better that way.

 

The ache in her hip reminded her she should at the very least be stretching each day instead of dragging around in the sand or trekking her way through the jungle. Blue eyes went to the spot the box had rested for many years. Something she had found on her travels. The design had spoken to her as soon as she laid eyes on it. Right now she regretted giving it up. But it wasn’t as if it had been her place to keep the weapon. It wasn’t hers. And it was a reminder of things lost. As if she needed the reminder.

 

It had been a long time since she had been restless, but that’s exactly what she was now. Angry and hurt and restless and nothing soothed her. Not the water, the sun or the sounds of the jungle.

 

Maybe it had been worse, seeing him now, than all those years ago. No, she hadn’t been prepared to see him with another woman. But she had known he would move on. He always did. This had been far too intimate for her. He’d come. _For her_. He’d known what he was doing. It was they why that tore at her. They had parted ways a long time ago. Why he feel the need to pop up into her life now? And how in the hell had he known there was a problem? The thought he’d kept tabs on her made her angry but she wasn’t egotistical enough to really believe it.

 

None of it mattered. She was dust in the wind again. Covering her tracks was second nature. He might be able to pinpoint the country, but he would never find her. And on the off chance he did? Well, she could disappear easily one more time.

 

It had been years since she’d had a place she considered home. And even then, her home had never been a place. It had been him.

 

With a frustrated grunt she pulled her clothes off quickly and changed into a swim suit. These days her body wasn’t as hard as it used to be. Still lean, but the curves were softer now. Less defined than before. She could no longer do the kind of work outs required to keep herself in the shape she had been in. The scars hadn’t changed though. Well, not the one you could see.

 

Running, she dove into the warm water intent on using it to push him from her mind once again. He didn’t belong there. Didn’t belong to her. And she would be happy to be rid of him.

 

The night was spent in the dark, reminiscing over the past, what they’d gone through, how they’d ended. In the end the arguments were too much. They were too intense over everything they encountered and rubbed each other up the wrong way as a consequence of that. Bond had loved her immensely and he’d made it known that he had every intention of marrying her some day. Unfortunately it just hadn’t meant to be. Their arguing escalated and with it their tempers flared. He was difficult, nigh impossible, to live with and he’d never made a secret of that. It’d been too much to overcome in the end.

 

Parting had shattered him. There’d been so many women where he could shrug his shoulders and carry on but he couldn’t throw her away nor could he get her out of his mind so easily. He’d done what she though he would do, it being the only way he could carry on. Burying himself in the work, drink and after some considerable time he could actually face women again. Even she’d been enough to put pause to that and even then everything was just so hollow.

 

The job hadn’t killed him but it came close the year after. Maybe he was reckless near the end of his career just in the vague hope that it might finally take him. He’d got the target but crushed his leg in the process. In the end he was lucky that he got to keep it but the damage had been done and the nagging pain that he got nearly every night was a reminder of what he went through. In the early days of the injury he would dream of Natasha who would be upset with him or admonishing him for taking such a crazy risk.

 

When he handed in his resignation, he’d whispered in his office to her silently. “You got your wish. You’re just not here to see it.” Taking all of his belongings, he packed them away and left the number and agent behind. All that was left was the shell of a man that’d dedicated his life to being everyone’s pawn. It was always without question when there was a benefit to him in the end. Unfortunately it hadn’t really given him a retirement plan.

 

Bond spent the next three months travelling the world, visiting places that he loved and enjoyed. Japan, Italy, Austria. In Japan he visited the places he usually did. In Italy, he laid flowers on Vesper’s grave where she was buried just outside of Venice. In Austria, he spent most of this time miserable as he watched people glide down the mountains while the thought of even joining them on the slopes gave him pain. He still managed to have a good time or as much as he was able to.

 

When he returned to London he was re-acquainted with Marie-Elise Arnaud. He wasn’t quite sure whether he’d call her an old flame. They’d had a casual fling during a mission once a very long time ago, far before Natasha’s time, and he was honestly surprised that she’d caught up with him now that he retired. They had a chat over coffee. She was married with children and left the French secret service quite a while ago. Now that her children were older she was looking to work again and that was when Bond decided to start up his own private consultancy with her as his right hand.

 

The musings of the past had led him three drinks further down in his home when he eventually went to bed that night. The next morning he had his usual hangover but it didn’t stop him. Getting to the office, he stuffed a number of painkillers down his throat and went straight to the lab only to stop when he noticed Marie-Elise, palms flat on the desk, hovering over one of the monitors.

 

“Marie-Elise?”

 

“Why are you searching for the Black Widow? Isn’t she dead?”

 

Ah. Natasha had been quite the secret of his life. There’d been whispers, of course, ones that they’d kept quiet and for the most part where long forgotten. Keeping his cool, he answered calmly. “The Black Widow isn’t dead.” An honest answer. But Natasha Romanoff had died a long time ago and it’d been his fault. It was something he hadn’t forgiven himself for, just like all the other women that died because of him.

 

“She’s in Thailand. There’s a number of still images brought back. Grainy. I enhanced them.” She placed them in Bond’s hands and immediately he looked down flicking through them. “She’s moved on from this location. What’s going on James? What aren’t you telling me? You disappeared to Cambodia. Looking up the Black Widow and before you accuse me of spying on you, of course I am. Something isn’t right and I have a right to know what we’re dealing with. Is she a threat?”

 

That question brought forth a laugh. Of course she was a threat. She was never not a threat. “No. She’s not a threat to us.” She’d been relatively quiet apart from the usual sorties that he expected to hear about here and there. All hearsay and rumour but ones that he attributed to her from knowing her so damn well.

 

“So why are we searching for her? There’s no open case files on her. In fact, you refuse to take on any case files relating to her at all!”

 

“Marie-Elise…” Bond started.

 

“Don’t you dare. Out with it James.”

 

A long pause followed as Bond decided what he could tell her and it was with a heavy sigh that he did so. “I went to Cambodia to save her. She was injured and no one was going to find her but me.” He broke several laws doing it but nevertheless… “She’d have died and I didn’t want her to die.” The truth being that he really couldn’t face seeing her die again. “I was just making sure she got back to Thailand safe.”

 

Marie-Elise threw her hands up in the air. “You may be a good liar with most but that was a poor excuse. I’ll be in my office, James. If you want to chase ghosts then feel free. Just don’t involve us.”

 

As she stomped off, Bond was left to his thoughts for a moment as he looked through the photographs again. One by one he turned them over and over in his head. Guiltily fingers brushed over her bare shoulder in one of the images and he couldn’t help but wonder where he would find her next if she moved on. Although he had a feeling since he knew her so well, she also could be _anywhere_.

 

He’d wanted to marry her. At first she’d accepted it but as the prospect grew more and the idea she would actually have to give up her work hit home, she realized she couldn’t do it. As much as she’d pushed him to retire, she couldn’t do the same. She’d worried about his safety. Been angry at how Mi6 used him, as if he were simply disposable. But she had been standing for something. Had been doing something she felt was worthwhile. Something that might help her atone for her past. And she couldn’t walk away from that knowing how many kids would suffer if she did.

 

It had let to many arguments. They always burned brightly together. Maybe it would have been common sense that they would have to burn out. Nothing burned that hot and survived. The arguments had drove them apart. Slowly. Until they both realized they were still in two different places and it wouldn’t work while that was true.

 

And when they parted she realized she hadn’t been worth saving after all. That Natasha was the lesser of the two between her and the Widow. So she’d allowed the Widow to win. To do the job that needed to be done. Natasha gave up everything for people she had never met and might never appreciate her sacrifices.

 

Her trip home had taken longer than it should. While she wasn’t hopping military flights to stay out of passenger manifests as much these days, she still avoided being on the grid as much as possible. A flight out of Cambodia to an airport no where near her. Then traveling anonymously by packed bus to get where she needed to go. Head covered so her hair didn’t stand out, taking great care to never look up so one of the satellites could capture her image. But these days no one could survive without ending up on camera somewhere along the way. Yes, it took three times as long to reach her destination, but it kept her home private.

 

Days like these were days where she missed her accelerated healing. Her body hurt from what it had been put through and the salt water stung the cuts left behind. Over all she would have been better off sitting in that damn cell for the rest of her life. The thought made her angry.

 

The last couple of years had her here more often than not. Occasionally venturing out. Usually to feel the vibrations running along her web. Each time she had left this place she’d come back to it more broken that before. In spirit as well as body. This time she hadn’t planned on returning, but of course he interfered in that too. Now a few days after her return part of her wanted to leave. Go to the ends of the Earth to lick her wounds in private. She had responsibilities though. One or two people she didn’t want to fail. In the end she always failed though. To keep them safe she couldn’t give them what they needed.

 

She gave some thought to losing herself in Bangkok but quickly dismissed it. Just the thought of so many people pressing in on her made her want to scream. Somewhere else then. She would have to considered the possibilities for a while.

 

 

The email hit his in box with no sender. No IP. No way to track the source. Whoever had sent it covered their tracks extremely well. In the subject line it only said: Thailand

 

 

_The body was short and sweet. A spider never wanders too far from her web. Bangkok is nice enough this time of year. But south and west is even better._

 

Honestly if he claimed he wasn’t grateful for Marie-Elise then he’d be lying. From the outside, he could understand her apprehension. The Widow wasn’t someone people messed with, especially private security firms like his own. He’d been able to use that guise for long enough to avoid any individual cases regarding her whereabouts. Now it was going against that and to Marie-Elise all she could think about was the impact it would have on the company as a whole. She had no prior knowledge about them being romantically intertwined, she doubt she’d even guess. That was the beauty of them. They were so obvious as a pair yet at the same time completely inconspicuous to most. It was them. Their spy life. It fit them like a glove.

 

Bond resigned himself for the rest of the day to sitting at his desk and examining some more of the cases that came his way. It was only later on that night when the staff had left and he’d double checked on those out on the field (whom of which he was immensely envious of) did he look back at the pictures that Marie-Elise gave him. There were only three. Three clear frames. Snapshots of where Natasha tried to hide herself but clearly hadn’t managed to all the way. It was virtually impossible these days but she was so clever that she’d kept it to three. Three mere shots of her life caught in a moment.

 

That she wasn’t in the area anymore hadn’t surprised him. Chonnabot, while a remote area, wasn’t really the place that he’d expect to find her. Maybe it was designed to throw him off. But that made him question where she’d gone next and he had a fair idea. A remote coastal area was his best guess having known her for the years that he did. But where? A large proportion of Thailand sat on the coast and it was a fairly remote place anyway.

 

Later that night, he’d been racking his brains yet getting nowhere. A few drinks later, he tried to decompress and think less about it, but he wondered if that was even possible now that she’d invaded his mind yet again. Internally he cursed himself. Why did he go back? Why did he have to go and save her? It was none of his business, or so he thought, and truly he didn’t even understand it himself. Maybe if Moneypenny were here and knew the whole story she’d tell him he’s gone soft. Truth was, around Natasha he was always soft. She did that to him.

 

Being alone with his thoughts a while longer he was about to leave when an email from an unknown sender and IP popped in his inbox. The subject was something that immediately grabbed his attention and straight away he opened it and read it over. Sitting back in his chair he decided that it told him what he already knew, for the most part. While he knew Natasha had likely retreated to the coast, it gave him an area to focus on.

 

His first thought was Koh Samui, but he quickly discarded it for being too much of a tourist trap and too far away from Bangkok. That turned his attentions back to Bangkok and the areas surrounding it. Bond was smart enough to know that Samut meant ocean and so he focused his attention on those areas. It was after some Googling that he finally decide she was even further south than that. The Samut areas around Bangkok were really not isolated or attractive enough for her to retreat there. It was enough for him to decide she was in nearby to Petchaburi.

 

He wasn’t sure what drove him but he was already booking his airline ticket to Bangkok and his flight would leave in two hours. He decided he could work out clothes and a hotel along the way. But before he left, he replied to the email.

 

“Petchaburi is a big place. Do you have anything else?”

 

It struck him then that where Natasha was concerned his pride didn’t matter. An hour later he was sat in a seat on a plane with no luggage or anything. He’d deal with the fallout of his departure in the morning.

 

The second email wasn’t too far behind. No sender. No IP. Someone who didn’t want to be found. But someone who obviously knew where she was.

 

_If it were easy would it be worth it? If you know her as well as you think you do you already know where to focus. What are a few kilometers of shore compared to the entire province?_

 

…

 

Studying herself in the old mirror she grumbled out loud at the red lines still marking her face. Eventually they would fade to fine white lines. A blessing then that the blade had been razor sharp. For a while still the network of marks would mar her face. Too many of them rode close to her left eye. But they had wanted her to see them kill her. Blinding her hadn’t been part of the plan. More likely they were planning on peeling the skin from her body. Not a pleasant way to die. Maybe she would eventually be grateful it hadn’t come to pass. Maybe one day.

 

Restlessness had finally gotten the better of her and she planned a hike to some of the local ruins. Temples that had gone out of fashion many moons ago. Places that sometimes brought her peace. There were a few favorite places to pass along the way as well. It was a good way to spend a few weeks. She would need a few days to plan it. And a trip into the nearest village for a few supplies. And get in touch with a couple of people before she left so they wouldn’t worry. Not that they wouldn’t worry anyway.

 

Having a plan in place made her feel slightly better. The jungle was an easy place to lose oneself and that was what she needed these days. The sound of the waves called her and she obliged, moving to the sand easily. Slowly, carefully, mindful of the areas of her body that would be healing a while longer, she moved through an easier Yoga routine. Hopefully by the time she left she wouldn’t be as stiff and sore. Traipsing through the jungle battered and bruised would be a slow, painful journey.

 

Finally her mind began to wander. The first few years after they had split had been difficult, but she still worked at trying to keep her head above water. To try to hold onto Natasha. She had moved forward with plans, had tried to embrace a different life. It wasn’t until she had seen him that it all started slipping away and she didn’t see the point in trying to hold on to it. Seeing him only started the downward slide. Helped along by the sudden loss of her immunity. They weren’t sure if it was the formula Tony worked on, or simply just that her luck had run out where that was concerned. The slope had gotten slipperier as time passed until she pulled away almost completely. Selling everything and moving here.

 

From there everything was simply harder. Missions took longer to follow through with. Planning had to be even more meticulous. Favors had to be called in. All in the name of missions she couldn’t leave for anyone else. No matter how badly she was hurt. No matter the scars she walked away with. No matter the personal cost… she pushed on. After a while she stopped visiting the schools. Stopped getting to know the kids they took in. Stopped learning their stories. Who they were. Even stopped trying to connect with them after she saved them. All she could bring them after rescuing them was pain and misery. It was all she brought anyone. None of them deserved that.

 

Muscles stretched and the sun warmed her. A feeling, despite the tropical heat of this place, that never quite seemed to reach inside of her. Toes dug into the sand. The moves were natural to her, second nature. Though not as smooth as they once were she still managed them with a simple grace.

 

The sounds of the jungle combined with the waves finally managed to soothe her. Tension eased from her body slowly. For a moment she could push the memories aside. See the happy ones for what they were and take a small amount of solace in them. They had been happy for a while. Very happy. He’d made her believe she was worth saving. Worth something besides what the Widow could give. Made her believe that Natasha Romanoff wasn’t a monster. That she was worthy of being loved.

 

But that part had been a lie. In the end Natasha Romanoff wasn’t enough. She never was. Not to anyone.

 

The thought made her movements stutter, the grace she had possessed earlier fleeing.

 

With a frustrated groan she stood still, head dropping back, face to the sun.

 

Maybe she should take up drinking.

 

Slow even breaths as she eased herself to the ground. Sitting cross legged, she let her wrists dangle over her knees, eyes closed. A stillness. A quiet of the soul she reached for but never quite managed to grasp it. Not quite meditation. But she still used it to push down the emotion. Focus on the heat. The smell of the salt water. The sound of the rolling waves. The birds bouncing from tree to tree as they screeched behind her. Each bit of sensory input examined and filed away.

 

Heart rate and breathing slowed as stillness crawled towards her.

 

It’d been worth a shot. Bond landed in Bangkok the next day and sorted out some clothes, luggage and a place to stay. The hire car he had was driven to Phetchaburi. While still littered with beaches and tourists, it was decidedly quieter than Koh Samui. It was just the place that Natasha would love and he knew it.

 

Upon arrival in the province and check in to the hotel, he spent the day following up on various emails and to check if his anonymous tipster had been in contact again. No such luck, but now he felt more than confident that he had the right area and place. Questions such as who is the sender and why were they doing this were honestly as far from his mind as possible. While he was aware it could be a trap, no one else knew what or why he’d been out to Cambodia in the first place. It was only Marie-Elise that was starting to connect the dots together.

 

It was at some point in the afternoon that he slipped his swimming trunks on and ventured out to the nearby beach. He started from the northern tip and walked. The pain in his leg bothered him and it was a ghastly scar and sight to most, but he was never self conscious about it. Most of the damage done to him was in his mind, not on his body and as a consequence very few really truly knew the top and bottom of it.

 

About midway into the walk he was starting to question and feel some doubt and that was only confirmed when he got to the end of the stretch of beach with Natasha nowhere to be found. Was it the wrong area? The wrong beach? The wrong province? Or was it just someone toying with an old man’s heart? Shrugging away the sense of defeat, he returned to his room and proceeded to drink himself to sleep.

 

The next day, red eyed and worse for wear, he tried to ignore the pounding headache and hangover that he had. Already he decided that he would take a walk along the same stretch of beach again in the vague hope that she might be there but at this point he felt like he was looking for a needle in a haystack. Those thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing on his bed which had him move from the bathroom to the main room.

 

It was Marie-Elise.

 

“Thailand, James? Are you looking for the Widow?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What are you doing? This is crazy.”

 

“It isn’t. Trust me Marie-Elise.”

 

“That’s the problem. I do!”

 

“Then go with it. I have my reasons. Personal ones. They’re important to me.”

 

The penny must have dropped for Marie-Elise or at least she had a dozen more questions than she knew she would get answers too right now. Bond was greeted with silence on the other end of the line before she finally conceded defeat.

 

“Stay safe, James.”

 

“I will. Don’t worry.”

 

With that he hung up and began his ritual of going out to the northern stretch of the beach again, right along past the tourist areas, until he got to the southern most tip. It was that fateful morning where he eyed a lone figure with red hair and a bathing suit lying down. She looked peaceful, almost as if she was in a meditative state and he questioned who he was to her to disturb it. Most importantly she was safe and sound. She looked a bit bruised but nevertheless there was a relief at seeing her.

 

For a short while he continued to stare until he walked up and sat down beside her, stretching his bad leg out as it throbbed. “Thailand is always beautiful this time of year. You chose a lovely place to live, Natasha.” And he was aware that it was almost as far away from him as was humanely possible. If the moon had a beach, a breathable atmosphere and was warm he had no doubt she’d have tried to go there first.

 

His heart was pounding and he realised that it’d been a long time since he felt any thrill or risk. His injury just hadn’t permitted him to feel it and the set up in Cambodia was infantile, pathetically so. Which had him questioning why she got herself stuck in such a poor jail in the first place. Had she given up? Not quite knowing where to start or how to say everything, he started with why he was here instead. “I had to see you again. I had to know you are safe. The more I thought about where you stuck in Cambodia, the more I knew I had to come out here again.

 

“Why are you being so careless, hmm?”

 

Once vibrantly red hair had faded to a darker strawberry blonde. Partly from the silver that streaked it liberally but no doubt much of it had come from the time she spent in the sun. It was braided back now, out of the way as she always preferred, the end of the braid laying over her shoulder, resting just past her collar bone. After all the time she spent here, skin was a pale gold. Something that made visible scars stick out even more.

 

She hadn’t felt him approach. Something that reaffirmed just how severed their connection was. Up until she had seen him at the hotel, she had always known when he was around. Maybe it was some subtle sensory input she picked up on. Maybe it was some uncanny spider sense were he was concerned.

 

This time he managed to take her by surprise and she jerked slightly as he spoke. Eyes shot open immediately though she squinted in the sun. The look of surprise changed her features for a solid two beats before a flash of hurt and it was gone. Back to the neutral expression she reserved for nearly everyone.

 

While this part of the beach was linked with the rest, no one ventured this far. Untamed jungle lined it and all the tourist things were further north. Which was how she liked it. At no point in time did she believe he would show up here. He had no reason to. They had parted long ago, the pain not sparing either of them. She knew that. Knew he had felt it too. But it didn’t matter because it was done and they had made their choices.

 

Heart thudded in her chest and before she could stop herself her eyes swept over him taking note of the changes. His hair, the lines on his face, new scars… it only took a matter of seconds for her to take in. It was then she realized she was holding her breath and she let it out. Truth was she didn’t know what she was supposed to say. What could you say to your soulmate when things simply hadn’t worked out? Had they simply not tried hard enough? Had she only seen him that way while he had viewed her as a temporary distraction? It just didn’t matter now. A decade had passed and some things couldn’t be repaired.

 

“You have seen me now.” Formal speech patterns. She slipped into those even now when she separated herself. “As you can see I am alive. There was no need for you to come.” In fact she had no idea how he had found her. She was a ghost for a reason. She was careful. This place was sacred to her and however he found it, she was going to seal that little leak permanently.

 

Pushing herself off the sand she said, “We both gave up the right to ask those questions a long time ago Bond.” Not bothering to brush herself off she turned, headed for the line of jungle several meters behind them. The foot path was hardly noticeable but she could find it blind. Would he follow? That stubborn ass? Most likely. Short of shooting him though there wasn’t much to be done to stop him aside from make him unwelcome. Sand made the barefoot walk easy, muffling the sounds of her steps. The sun that had shone through the trees warmed it and it felt suddenly hot. But that was probably because she felt as if she were carved from ice.

 

While it would be considered tiny by most standards, the home she had here was larger than many in the villages. It followed traditional lines with the sharp pointed roof and the very regular angles and lines. Made from a combination of teak wood and adobe it was smaller than the flat they had shared together and obviously one room even from the outside. Floor to ceiling windows surrounded it and they were thrown open, allowing the breeze to move through the structure easily. Pieces of fabric waved lazily in the wind from some of them. A large porch wrapped around the entire thing, roof slanting down to cover it as well. A hammock was stretched out on one end and a small table and chairs sat on another. A place she would sit to drink her tea in the mornings. On stilts to keep it from flooding with a wooden shingled roof instead of the usual thatch. It was built to withstand even the meanest storm Mother Nature could whip up.

 

Part of the jungle had been cleared away, giving her enough free space for a small garden and room to breathe. Clusters of flowers rose around the yard area, blooming and lush in the tropical heat. The front end of a vehicle could be seen under the structure, tucked away under the stilted building, barely visible unless someone might be looking for it.

 

Heart in her throat now, for a moment she thought she might be sick. What was he doing here? And what avalanche of events had he set into motion by coming? She didn’t know but couldn’t imagine anything good coming from it. As if she’d had a sudden adrenaline dump she felt her muscles begin to shake, her knees going weak, and she sat heavily on one of the bottom steps trying to calm her now racing heart.

 

The rustle of plants gave away anyone who wanted to make it here and it was no different now. He hit the clearing at the same time she realized there were another set of sounds and she stood a moment before she realized who it was.

 

The same kid who had delivered the package came from the back of the house, concern on his face. “Mom?” he called before he could see her. “Dad said to come check on you. He was worried.” As he cleared the side of the house he stopped, seeing her and the look on her face a moment before his head whipped around and he saw Bond.

 

“Oh.” The word came out as a breath. “Mom?”

 

In truth he expected the coldness. It was her way of defending herself and closing herself off. It was a defensive mechanism, one that he’d grown familiar with over the years that he’d chosen to spend with her. The way she looked at him also wasn’t lost on him. Clearly she hadn’t seen him in a while or even bothered to check on him and the thought of that truly hurt even if the same could have been said for him until Cambodia.

 

The answers hadn’t surprised him in the end. He didn’t expect her to welcome him with open arms, not once, and he did expect her to send him on his way home. Unfortunately for her he had other ideas and as soon as she got to her feet, he found himself following her at a distance. From that distance he was able to take in more of her. The first thing of note was that she’d aged. The suppleness that he was fond of in her curves were now softer and her hair was streaked with grey here and there. Had her luck finally ran out?

 

“I didn’t come all this way just for that,” he called. But he had no real explanation of what he was here for beyond that. All he knew that now he was here and he’d seen her it’d reopened something up in him that he’d done his best to bury over the last decade. Part of him regretted it. The other part of him wondered if he could put that right somehow.

 

Fate, apparently, had other ideas. Just as they got to what he assumed was her home he noted a familiar face. It was the boy that delivered the gun to him in London. Furthermore he was calling her mum and apparently he had a dad as well. His mind went through the possibilities, though he tried to swallow down some of the obvious hurt that flashed over his face. They’d lost a child a long time ago and it’d been a large part of the beginning of the end. Now he was faced with a child either of her past or of adoption given his age and even worse was that the child had a father and that father wasn’t him.

 

He swallowed the hurt down. It was the only thing he could do as he tried to flash a neutral look over to them both. Clearly she’d moved on and there was someone else and now he truly understood that this wasn’t his place and that he wasn’t welcome here at all. He was intruding and he didn’t belong in this life. She had her own and must have been happy. Bond was just a miserable old man who led a life of hollow yet hedonistic pleasures that never satisfied but barely satiated the very tips and threads of life.

 

Bond directed his attention back to the young man. “Hello again.” He didn’t have it in him to be rude, not when he didn’t deserve it, but he was left to wonder if that message was ever passed on to Natasha. Part of him thought maybe it hadn’t. The other part of him thought that she wouldn’t have given a damn and now he’d seen everything with his eyes he knew very well that was the case.

 

He was trained to hide his hurt and weakness. It wasn’t for her to see and it only gave people a way in. So he did so. He’d take himself away from their lives and continue on with his own. It’d been a mistake and one that he’d live with for the rest of his life even if he didn’t regret it. Maybe this is exactly what he had to see in order to finally move on with everything. “I’ll get out your hair.” He wasn’t angry with her, there was nothing to be angry about. “It was great to see you again.” Turning away he started his way back up the road, opting to walk back to where he was staying. It was a long walk that would hurt but maybe that was exactly what he needed to feel right now.

 

Too much was happening at once. Hands came up, signing in short, sharp motions to the kid. The look on her face was full of hurt. He answered her in kind before speaking. “I was coming to tell you he was on his way.”

 

Reaching out to him, she accepted the boy into her embrace noting he was as tall as she was now. He’d always been small for his age but she thought he had another growth spurt coming. She loved him. Often she wished he didn’t because then maybe he could have had a better life. One without her in it. One with a real family. But life rarely went the way you wanted it to.

 

“Are you going to talk to him?” he asked in her ear.

 

“There’s nothing to say,” she answered before letting go of him and heading for the stairs. The shock of seeing Bond was still reverberating through her, knees still threatening to buckle. “We made our choices a long time ago.”

 

At that he gave a sly grin. “Seems to me he made a choice a week or so ago for Cambodia and a choice to come here.”

 

“Right, and exactly how did he find his way here, hmm?” she questioned suspiciously.

 

Grin never leaving his face he shrugged. “Fate?”

 

“Fallacy,” responded Natasha.

 

The kid seemed to consider it then shrugged. “Can I tell him my name?”

 

She paled slightly but nodded finally. “It’s your name. You can do with it as you wish.”

 

With a quick kiss on her cheek he was headed back down the path. Catching up with the other man almost at the road he called out “Wait!” before jogging the next few steps to come even with him.

 

He wasn’t winded, didn’t even appear to be remotely strained. The joys of youth. Dark hair blew in the breeze and the dark eyes studied him evenly in the same way they had the night in his office.

 

“I knew you once before,” he said after a moment. “At the school.” A hint of awkwardness rose again and he looked away. Green pressed in around them but the area had gone silent. Creatures were used to Natasha’s passing but not theirs. “My name is Adam. She adopted me when I was 10.”

 

Adam looked at him again. Work had been done. Delicate work for sure, subtle. A nose that now resembled hers more. Cheekbones that had changed ever so slightly, though whether that was surgery or simply growing older it was hard to say. He still had that slight build he’d had as a child but now it was full of muscle. He was lean with a runner’s build. Once he said his name it was obvious he was the same child she’d spent hours teaching sign language to. Hours carrying him around because he would never let go of her when she was around.

 

“When she adopted me she gave me a full name. Adam James Roman.” She’d denied Romanoff because she worried it would make him a target. Worried someone would figure it out. So she had used an alias. One she had actually only used once and wasn’t well known. Nadine Roman. “I asked her to adopt me for three years before she did finally. The first time I told her I would never leave the way the baby had. She cried and told me I would make a family so happy their hearts would nearly burst inside of them. I didn’t want any other family. I wanted her for my mom. When she agreed she said that sometimes you belong to someone whether you wanted to or not. Whether they wanted you or not. That it couldn’t be changed. And I was hers. That she was sorry it had taken her so long to understand that.”

 

Adam went silent, letting it sink in. “Why did you come here?” Now the tone was more aggressive. “Because if it’s just to walk away now then I was wrong about you. And leading you here was a mistake.”

 

Of all the people he expected to catch up to him, he hadn’t expected the child in all of this. As he reached his side, he turned his head and looked down at him. He was almost his size, maybe an inch or two away from being taller than him. Keeping in step he continued onward as the young man spoke. Then when he told him just precisely who he was another glance was cast in his direction. Blue eyes carefully looked him up and down, attempting to match him to the Adam he knew in the past. He’d grown and was different but there was no reason to doubt him. Only Adam would know who he was in this sense.

 

Bond let him carry on a short while before they came to a blue tarp which covered a number of tables. Inside they were making street food, some of which smelt fantastic. With a flick of his head, Bond headed inside and bought himself a beer and Adam a coke which he passed over to him as he joined him at the table they were now occupying.

 

“Adam…” He started. “I can hardly believe it.” It’d been so long. Years. Though he’d never forgotten the boy. It was impossible to forget him and the fact that he shared his story so freely warmed a part of his heart he tucked away long ago. However, Bond was still processing a number of revelations. That he had a Dad now was busying his mind. That he also carried the middle name of James ignited a hope in him that was long since lost. Though it was a popular name and he had to steady himself. It could mean nothing.

 

Bond was quiet for a short while as he truly decided how to answer. Eventually his shoulders lifted and he offered a shrug. “I’m not sure I have an answer to that other than to ask if you remember what I told you back in my office. The message I left your mother was that I was always here even if the worst happened. That was still true. That was why I went to Cambodia because I wasn’t about to let her suffer out there. As for why I’m here, I don’t know. I couldn’t tell you.”

 

He should have stayed away. Cambodia was what brought everything to a head and had him rushing out to Thailand in the first place. Now he was dealing with a young boy who wanted him here yet had other priorities. On that subject, Bond wasn’t likely to let him forget that either. “You have a mother and a father. Why do you care about what I do? It was a long time ago and she’s moved on. My presence would only over complicate matters.” That answered that he had no intention of walking away when he came here, at least no originally. It was driven by the circumstances which were presented to him in that moment.

 

Adam had said what he had to say and offering nothing more as they walked. It was a lot to process no doubt. They ducked in to the market and Adam greeted a few people easily, the language rolling off his tongue. Maybe surprising for a child who had spent the first years of his life not speaking. He grabbed a table and dropped down, elbows propped up onto the wood top. It rocked a little and he found it comforting somehow.

 

He accepted the drink. It hadn’t been easy but he’d watched someone he loved dearly slide further and further away from him. Finally he realized he had to act. As a kid he’d witnessed some of it for himself. Heard stories for the rest of it. He recognized enough to know the truth. Whether or not the two of them would come to the same conclusion he didn’t know. He hoped so. Right now though he wasn’t sure the older man understood.

 

Taking a drink from the cup he set it back down on the rickety table, hand staying close in case it fell. “We asked about you. After you left.” He’d been the first to realize how much it hurt her to talk about him. The first to stop asking. “She only told us that things hadn’t worked out. After that she wasn’t around nearly as much.” They hadn’t known about the baby for a long while. A private pain she hadn’t been able to share. They’d learned about it from some of the other adults, probably accidentally.

 

Adam remembered. It was what tipped the scales finally. For a while she had kept things. Pictures, notes, small items. Eventually they disappeared though. But not until after. When she came back and things had changed. Once more his direct gaze watched the older man. His questions were valid but it wasn’t as simple as Bond might want it to be.

 

“Not long after she adopted me something happened. She wouldn’t talk about it. But it was enough that I could feel the difference. She was withdrawn. Distant.” Oh he had never once in his life doubted she loved him. Not even in the early times. It had just taken him a while to convince her that he loved her. “She was on a mission. Venice I think. Italy somewhere anyway. Whatever happened tipped her over the edge of what she had fought for years.” Lips formed a sad smile and he looked away. Once again the adults talked and he had a good idea on what happened. But that wasn’t his story to tell. “We’d moved to New York by then. I tried as hard as I could to bring her out of it. She told me she would try to give me the family I should have and wouldn’t listen when I said she was enough.

 

“Dad stepped up with open arms. Even that young I knew how much he loved her. I thought maybe he could do what I couldn’t. After a few years he admitted he couldn’t. He loved her but she didn’t love him the same way. He said she was still too in love with someone else.”

 

Adam took a deep breath. The years had been rocky but he wouldn’t change them if it meant giving her up. Giving up his life. It wasn’t perfect and neither was she. But as far as he was concerned she had always been his mother.

 

“After that she started taking on more and more missions. She would come back half dead sometimes. Especially once the immunity went away. And as soon as she was healed she was gone again. When she was gone I stayed with Dad. I spent as much time with him as I did with her. Maybe more. She changed my birth certificate in case something happened and I needed another parent. Clint Barton is listed as my father on all legal documents.”

 

There had been a time he imagined they would be one big happy family. Natasha, Adam and James. He’d never admitted that to her. “Once, when she was on a lot of painkillers, she told me she thought you would both adopt Erik and I. Adam James. Erik Andrew. A family.” So many times he wondered what it would have been like if that had happened.

 

“She’s been sinking for years now. It’s worse now that she lives here. By herself.” Brown eyes looked up and met blue. “I do IT for the web. She thinks I don’t know. But I do. She traded herself for those kids on the last mission. Hadn’t been on one in almost a year. No fight. No plan. She went there to die.” Raising his glass in a mock toast he said, “I need you to save her.”

 

Bond sipped at the cold beer and listened to what Adam had to say. A decade ago he doubt he’d ever find any words at all. Now he was getting a speech about everything that happened. He knew it’d hurt her just as it hurt him. That they now both had pain to share from Venice was just another thing they had in common, one he knew she was very familiar with. She wouldn’t have betrayed him and spilled the beans. They both had far too much respect and honour for one another, even now.

 

He was glad that Adam at least had a father in Clint. It was logical given that he and Natasha were best friends. Selfishly, he didn’t find himself concerned about his pain. The look that Clint gave Natasha at times had always confirmed to him what he knew. He loved her, but for whatever reason, they just weren’t going to be a couple. However, at this point it would be hypocritical of him to think or say that he should be moving on. Bond had hardly achieved much better when it came to that anyway.

 

“Adam…” he started, knowing he had to tread carefully, knowing he didn’t want to hurt or disappoint the boy. It was clear he saw him as some father figure he never had or he wouldn’t have been going to these kind of lengths to drag him out half way across the world to see her. It was clear that he would do anything to make his mother smile again. “Do you think I make your mother happy? She doesn’t want to see me. She dismissed me and pretended I wasn’t there when you decided to come here with me.”

 

Bond shook his head. “I saved her once in Cambodia. But she has to want to save herself. I can’t make her do that. I can only do as much as I’ve done. I told her I’d always be here for her and that is still true. That’s the message I wanted you to pass on to her.” That she gave both Erik and Adam his name and his middle name hadn’t been lost on him and he rubbed a hand over his hair at the thought of it. “Christ…”

 

It’d hurt them both. But what could he tell Adam? He knew he was expecting him to do something, but what? “She’s not going to listen to me and I don’t want to use you.” This was far too personal for that and he was past those days. Besides this was Natasha and Adam. He’d come to care for the children as impossible as that seemed in such a short time that he knew them. He couldn’t do that to either of them.

 

Finally he finished his glass of beer. Maybe it would give him just that touch of courage he needed. “What do you want me to do? Walk back to her home with you? Talk to her? I can try to talk to her about the risks she’s taking but I think I’ll be the last person she wants to hear it from right now.” He stood and gestured back out towards the road. “Lead the way.”

 

“You were the one who saved her before, or was that all a lie?” It was clear he wasn’t referring to Cambodia. “The question you better have an answer to is: Do you love her? Because if the answer is no, then you need to leave now. If the answer is yes, then I suppose you need to decide how much. If you go at this half assed she’s going to eat you alive.” The thought obviously amused him but the question had been serious.

 

“Use me?” The amusement hadn’t died. “Exactly how do you think a random tip about where she was and what was happening ended up getting to you?” Obviously the kid had a hand in it. “Of all the people in the world, after ten years no less, and you think that bit of information came to you on a breeze?” The tone suggested maybe Adam was reevaluating how smart James actually was.

 

Brown eyes watched him as he rose, the words the older man said making him laughing until tears sprang to his eyes. “If you think going in telling her she’s reckless is going to get you anywhere, boy are you in for a world of hurt. You really think she isn’t fully aware of the risks she takes? She’s not senile. Did you not look at her face? Would the woman you knew allowed someone to cut it up like that without fighting back?” The wave of his hand was a gesture he’d clearly picked up from Natasha. “She was happy once before. I saw it myself. I may have been a kid but I know the truth.” He turned serious, looking up at Bond. “There’s a hole inside of her. And either you give back what she gave to you to fill it, or you find some other way to do it. Because if you don’t there’s not going to be anything left of her.”

 

It wasn’t easy to watch someone you love simply give up. To see them slip further and further away no matter how tightly you try holding on to them. It was like trying to hold water in your hand. It was even harder, in a way, to have to admit you didn’t have the power to save them. That maybe that rested with someone else.

 

Adam rose from the table, running a hand through his dark hair. Another gesture that was eerily like his mother. “Come on. I went to give her a head’s up you found her. She doesn’t like surprises. I thought you’d be slower.” He cast an inscrutable look at the older man over his shoulder. “It might have gone easier if I’d gotten there first. And I would appreciate you not telling her how you found her.” Not to say she would have taken it well exactly. But she never reacted positively to surprises. And he would never hear the end of the reaming he’d get if she knew her son had led Bond here. “You’ve got three options. You can leave now and I won’t contact you again. You can go back now and give it a go. Or you can wait until the morning. We have an apartment in town and I’ll stay there a few days. She only comes in when she needs supplies of some kind.” He waited for the other man to decide.

 

 

For a while she simply paced. Until the walls felt like they were closing in despite all the windows being wide open and the breeze pushing the muggy air around without hesitation. Finally it was enough to force her out of the house. She could work in the green house. Or the garden. Or whatever.

 

Since coming here she’d discovered she had something of a green thumb. The screened green house in the back was full of thriving plants, many of them rare. Not a true greenhouse since it never got cold here, but one that allowed her to control pests and other issues that might arise. It was also full of butterflies. The beautiful insects working to pollinate mot of the plants within.

 

But first, the garden. Grabbing the basket of hand tools sitting by the door she made her way back down the stairs to the small raised garden beds. Before too long she was lost in the scent of warm dirt and green plants, allowing it to soothe her.

 

If there were a few physical mannerisms that he carried that were Natasha’s, there was also the taunting as well. Eyes narrowed and honed in on the young man. “No one likes a smart arse.” There were no truer words spoken in life and more often than not they were very harshly received as well because most chose to ignore it. All lessons were learned the hard way in that regard. Bond was well aware it hadn’t been an anonymous tip and that it had been someone that knew the both of them. He just hadn’t expected it to be Adam.

 

He didn’t say anything else, opting to walk back towards where her home was located now. There was no point in retiring back to his hotel. He may as well get it over with now. “I can’t make any guarantees of what I can do. But we’ll talk. If she wants to talk.” She may have thrown him out of the house or reacted badly or ranted and raved at him. At the end of the day, he knew it wasn’t going to be easy no matter what way they went about it.

 

Though he refused to confirm or deny that he still loved her. There was a part of him that always would do but their love didn’t come easy and it was vastly complex to everyone else’s. It was the type of love that intertwined them both permanently and there was no breaking away from it. Bond was fairly certain that was the reason he was here. Why else would he be? But admitting it would only cause more heart break if he couldn’t fix whatever was going on.

 

Eventually they got back and it was then that he announced. “It’s too late for that. She already knows I’m here. Never assume.” Plans never went exactly to the letter and his occupation had proved that to him nearly every single time. Slowly he crept around the side of the house, looking for any sign of her around. Eventually he saw her figure working in the garden and he looked back to Adam and announced his intentions. “I’ll talk to her. Remember, no promises.”

 

Bond made a move further into the garden, eyeing all the flowers that she’d grown while trying not to pull a face. They were never his favourite and generally a waste of time even if he did gift them to women far more often than was reasonable. “I made a mistake,” he announced, looking down at her. “I should have stayed so that we can talk. I haven’t seen you in a long time and I came all this way for you. Twice. No matter what you’re still an important person and I do care.”

 

“You’re not here because I want you to like me.” Adam’s voice was soft but carried more than a little defiance. He was second guessing this path and everything that might come with it. But in the end it was still the only option he’d come up with.

 

He stayed quiet on the walk back, his thoughts his own. This was the last bit of hope he could manage but he refused to let it grow. It would only hurt even more if it were crushed. A gamble this size would easily be devastating if it went wrong. From the corner of his eye he watched the other man, overlaying the things he remembered with the now. Trying to judge what might be going on in his head. He didn’t admit to loving her and that left a sour taste in Adam’s mouth. What did he expect after so long though? He held back a sigh as they reached the turn off that by passed the monastery where most people went and followed the narrow lane down to her home. Bond’s words nearly made him laugh again but he held it back only nodding. Part of him wanted to stay, just in case. But he knew neither needed his further interference. Well, maybe they didn’t. He didn’t think she would simply shoot the other man, it was always possible. Red heads and all.

 

 

 

On her knees so she didn’t have to bend over, she heard both sets of footsteps before anything else. Her sense of hearing hadn’t faded, nor had her sense of smell. Those weren’t gifts from the Red Room, they were her own. When only one set approached she nearly laughed. Bless the kid for trying she thought. He was far more clever than most people gave him credit for.

 

The words didn’t make her look up. She continued to work the dirt around the herbs growing there without pause. “No, as usual you made assumptions then got mad and left.” He made a lot of assumptions about her. He always had. “I realize Adam has put a lot into this meeting, but you can save your breath. I don’t need you Bond. I’ve survived for a long time without you. Just as you survived without me. No point in pretending otherwise now.”

 

Maybe her body wasn’t as honed as it used to be any longer, but her tongue was still sharp as ever. Sun was warm on the back of her head and the end of her braid rubbed against the dark soil. She hadn’t bothered with gloves and her hands were smeared with it all. Thankful the scents from the bed were stronger this close to her than the scent of him she tried to channel her entire focus down to the ground.

 

“There isn’t anything to say Bond. We made our beds. We get to lie in them.” Like the social butterfly he wanted everyone to believe he was, he flitted away from it as if it has been a mere blip in his life. “Excuses now just cheapen it, wouldn’t you say?”

 

Shuffling a little ways to the side she dug into a new spot, loosening the soil in her hands. Sometimes the rain packed it down more than it should be. Thankfully it wasn’t too bad and some of these would be ready to take to the monks later.

 

“If you’re here to make some grand gesture or tell me about any risks I’ve taken I’ll tell you not to waste your time. I’m not interested in either. Go home Bond. I have my life under control.” No matter what her son thought.

 

Did it hurt that bad that she had to be formal? “My name is James. I’ve nearly always been James to you and I wasn’t mad. I thought I was intruding on something and I had no place to be here. That’s not my intention.” But he’d been hurt by the thought of it and his only hope was to remind her of what they had long ago. That he wasn’t a monster because it just hadn’t worked out then. Sticking to what the boy asked he remained silent on the matter, refusing to bring him into it or act as a bargaining chip. Though he did mention one thing, the only thing that should matter. “He’s terrified he’s going to lose you.”

 

As much as it caused him a lot of pain and he didn’t bother to hide it, he knelt at her side, momentarily distracted by the assortment of plants that were growing in the bed before looking back at her. “We made beds that neither one of us were truly comfortable in and as much as you may dislike me, I’ve always told you I’m here and that still stands. No excuses. Just the truth.” Though it hadn’t surprised her that she didn’t call on him for help. Quite frankly he thought that he would be the last person she would call on if she needed it.

 

That thought led onto his next questions. “Say for a minute you are coping and you are in control of your life.” There was a long pause as his eyes bored a hole into the side of her skull. “Then how does a woman like you end up locked in a Cambodian jail cell that’s not strong enough to keep hold of an average person?” There’d been no considerable effort on his behalf to sneak in and no considerable effort to get her out.

 

“Unless by saying your life is under control means that you’re content in saying you’ve given up. If that’s the case then it’s no wonder you hate me right now.” The thought did make him laugh. It was sarcastic and probing of him. It was very much like the early days at the resort where he got under her skin and unsettled her. He knew it would get him in hot water but he rather she felt alive than dead inside.

 

“So I’m not telling you about the risks. Or that you don’t have your life under control. Apparently you do. It just so happens that you’re signing your own death warrant to go along with it.” A long pause followed and then a shrug of his shoulders. “Considering you treat me as if I’m dead to you, aren’t you a little disappointed that you’ll be joining me by doing so?” Goading her was a bad idea but if he could get her to react, get to her emotions, then he knew that he could find Natasha somewhere inside.

 

No, he hadn’t always been James. More often than not he had been her _dorogoi_ , _solntce moyo_ , but those days were long past.

 

“Well, you can’t accuse me of walking away this time then.” Not that his accusations were unfounded. She often wanted space. Time to sort out her thoughts and emotions. Especially where he was concerned. Hands worked through the dirt and she shuffled again, shifting a little further down the line. Focused on the task beneath her hands she refused to look up at him, though she could feel him willing it. What good would it do now? Their time had passed. Painful for both of them yes, but it didn’t change facts. He couldn’t lie though. She’d seen the look on his face when Adam had called her mom. And when he’d mentioned his father. It had lasted no longer than the surprise she showed at his arrival but it had been there. It wasn’t as if he had ever wanted to adopt so he had no room to complain. He’d wanted _blood_ over family.

 

“Of course he’s going to lose me. We all lose the people we care about eventually. But he’s grown now. Safe. And he has his own life to live. One that doesn’t have to include me.” Hell, _shouldn’t_ include her. Find someone he loved with all his heart. Find his soulmate. And hope to all that was holy that they could stay together.

 

Lips twitched ever so slightly. “I don’t dislike you. I’m not angry. I’m not bitter. All of those things faded a long time ago.” They’d all sucker punch her in the gut in Venice. Taken her breath away. After that she had simply began to go numb. “I don’t need help. Unless you want to prune plants that I can’t seem to keep up with, then there isn’t anything you can help me with.” After Venice she’d redacted his access to the schools. Not that he ever knew the difference. He hadn’t gone there after the split anyway. Maybe it was bitterness or anger that made her do it. Or maybe it was simply the fact in the more than three years since their split he hadn’t even so much as came near that block. “Neither one of us does honest well, remember? Why are you really here James? Adam may have dangled the bait in front of you, but you decided to come. I’ll give you Cambodia if you want. But that doesn’t tell me why you are here. In Thailand.” Soil was turned over with her hands, rearranged and patted back down. There was a rhythm to it. But now that he was sitting next to her it didn’t give her the satisfaction it usually did.

 

That she constantly risked her life for the kids was something he’d never quite understood. He could grasp duty and orders just fine. But doing it because it was the right thing to do? That often eluded him in their time together. He’d fussed about the risks. Wanted someone else to do the job. But no one else was her. And no one else was as good. So she did it because no one else could. But it was a part of her he always failed to comprehend completely.

 

“There were kids involved. Their lives have always been more important than mine.” That had been a sticking point for them. He felt she devalued herself with the thought. She simply knew she was the past and they were the future. “Besides, with as long as it was taking them I was bound to get bored.”

 

When she hit the end of the planter she hesitated, unsure of where to go next. “And how I chose to spend my time should mean very little to you.”

 

Finally she looked at him without moving from the ground. Staying silent so he could look his fill at the lines mapping her face. “You’re plenty alive with or without me. As for my death warrant as you call it, it is mine to contend with. And last time I saw a doctor I had a clean bill of health. So your concern for my death seems misplaced.” Was she actively looking to die? No. Would she say she was avoiding it? Not honestly. But seeing him here? It made her heart skip a beat. Made words stick in her throat. Made some hidden part of her wonder…

 

“I’ll ask you one more time Bond. _Why are you here?_ ”

 

His eyes couldn't miss the healing cuts on her face even if he'd wanted to. They stood out in stark relief against her skin, red and vivid against it. Her blue eyes were forthright as always, not flinching away from him. But then, she rarely ever did. No, she met things head on as a general rule and there was no reason to believe she would stop now.

 

_I've never stopped loving you._

 

Words that would be true but not the words she would believe at this point. Not the words that would heal the rift. Love didn't heal all wounds no matter what anyone said. Love hadn't even been enough to keep them together. They'd loved each other completely. Had he ever stopped? Now, confronted with her? No, he had never stopped. His heart still belonged to her. It always had.

 

“Natasha...” Voice was low, thick with all the things left unsaid between them.

 

At that she turned away, rising from her place on the ground. Seeing him here only brought up more pain. Memories better left buried under the weight of the years. Her heart ached in a way it hadn't in longer than she could remember and she felt tears prick the backs of her eyes. She couldn't do this with him. Couldn't go through this again. The first time had nearly killed her. Venice had killed whatever bits of Natasha had been left.

 

It was something she knew. Maybe even regretted. It had made her hold back. Made her a lesser mother to her son. Adam would never say that, but she _knew_. She had failed Adam more than anyone else in her life. And she would never be able to make that up to him. More than once she'd wished his attachment to her had faded. Yes, it was the only things that warmed her, reached into her. Especially after Venice. But the Red Room had been right... she was a terrible mother.

 

“Don't Bond. There's no point in doing this. What's done is done and there's no going back.” Despite the soft tone the words cut. Cut both of them.

 

James rose to his feet slowly, the injury making the movements stiff. A hand reach out, grazing her shoulder, the backs of his fingers skimming down the very scar he'd touched the first night at the resort. The night everything between them began to change. “If I believed that I wouldn't be here.”

 

There. Was that enough to satisfy her for now? The honest truth was that he hadn't examined why he was here. Hadn't stopped to consider it. Hadn't even thought past the point of seeing her again. Not really. But after he left her in Cambodia he couldn't get her out of his head. And she had never left his heart. Something that was so apparent to him he was surprised there wasn't a neon sign hanging over his head.

 

“Don't,” she barked at him, shrugging away from him. As always his touch was warm, nearly searing. The motion so reminiscent of that first night she felt her breath catch. The smell of warm Earth couldn't overcome the smell of him now that they were standing so close together. It shot a familiar spark through her. With a scowl she stepped back, surrendering the space so she could put distance between them.

 

“Bond, whatever we had died a long time ago. Leave it there. Let it rest in peace.”

 

Cool indifference where she was concerned wasn't new to him. She often retreated into it when things became too emotional. It was a defense mechanism she was skilled at using. But he'd seen it. Seen the flicker of emotion in her eyes when he touched her. That's all he needed. A crack in the walls she built around her.

 

“I can't.” Brutal honesty. It was always the best way where she was concerned. “I won't.” Two steps and he was in her space. Crowding her. Forcing her to take a stand because the woman didn't have it in her to back down. Bond cupped her face, purposefully taking the injured side. “I missed you Natasha. Maybe I could lie to myself for a long time that I didn't. But I can't now.” The rough pad of his thumb skimmed her lower lip. “Maybe our past is dead. But neither one of us is. What about our future?”

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Polite smile on her face, she backed away from him. Hand tucked a loose strand of hair behind an ear as she turned to walk away. “It was nice to see you Bond. Have a safe trip back home. You can see yourself out.”

 

Then she fled. Oh it looked casual enough, but her body was stiff and she didn't even pause as she made her way to the stairs of her small home. Up the stairs and inside where the door closed quietly. Then she let go, sliding to the ground in a heap, tears welling in her eyes and clogging her throat. Dammit she _refused_ to cry. Refused to give him anything else. He had taken the best parts of her leaving nothing left. Natasha Romanoff was his and when he left she died. There was nothing left of her.

 

 _Natasha Romanoff is dead_. She said it in her head over and over again. A mantra of protection against him. The Widow never gave a damn one way or another about him. Natasha though.... Natasha had loved him more than anything else. Had given him everything. Every piece of her. Love hadn't kept them together. In the end love was a lie.

 

Hip started to ache before she pulled herself off the floor. It had never healed correctly and she'd never done anything to fix it. Now it bothered her more often than not. But the hard wood of the floor certainly didn't do it any favors an she'd been sitting there far too long. Rising unsteadily to her feet she stood in the middle of her home trying to find a direction. Trying to pretend he hadn't, once again, sent her world into a spin. Hadn't upended everything she knew.

 

Maybe she would go into town and have dinner with her son. Breakfast had been simple and lunch was nonexistent. Thanks to Bond's untimely arrival. She had no real appetite, less now than even her usual one. Still.... Adam would enjoy the time. Maybe she would even offer to cook for him. The boy did love his lasagna.

 

A smile, as faint as it was, finally formed and she made her way to the small bathroom in the corner. A quick shower then she would find him. No more thoughts of Mr. Bond were needed. While small, the room gave her some solace. The floor was natural stone from the area as was the shower which occupied one corner. The rainfall shower head was a little impractical, but then, life here was slower so did it really matter? The large soaking tub was fitted in the other corner and despite the constant heat in this place, she still enjoyed it. Many evenings were spent there with candles and a book, soaking away the aches from the day. A small vanity sat against one wall, the single sink all she needed. Toilet was across from it. The natural stone and wood that made up nearly everything gave the small room warmth and personality. Thin gauzy curtains hung from the large windows. These were a royal blue silk. The fabric blew with the breeze, the ends flicking out. Reaching inside the shower she flipped it on to give it a minute and pulled a towel out from under the sink. Water here was collected and stored, often coming from the frequent rains. Some of it was processed from underground water tables. One more thing she'd done to keep this place off the grid.

 

Electricity was done via solar tiles on the roof. Generated power was stored in cells below the house itself. While there was a risk if the water rose high enough, she didn't think that would ever happen. Fail safes had been put in place as well. Yes, it would be a mess, but no one would be hurt because of it. She had considered going with wind, but being surrounded by the jungle meant the breeze was no where near as strong as it was on the beach. And putting something on the beach would only bring attention to this place.

 

She'd gone so far as to make sure even the satellites wouldn't pick the place up thanks to a small virus she'd planted. After all her decades of service to the world she'd wanted nothing more than to be left in peace. Something that had been ruined. As she stepped into the shower she sighed, letting her head rest against the stone wall. Adam had meant well. And he might even try to deny doing it. But he was the only one who would have. Clint respected her wishes. No one else knew where she was exactly. She loved the boy as much as she was able but she wished his good nature hadn't led him to this.

 

Natasha allowed the water to wash away the emotion of the day. Wash away thoughts of the past. Wash away the hurt and pain. Ease the ache in her heart that nothing would ever be able to reach. Life wasn't fair. She knew that more than anyone else. But she had hoped all her sacrifices would buy her a little bit of peace.

 

When she disappeared behind the door he considered leaving. Perhaps he'd been wrong about what he saw. Perhaps she simply loathed him and his touch. James wandered the grassy space. Riots of flowers found a hold all around. The planters she had been working were full of herbs and plants he suspected had medicinal properties. A few he recognized from his travels but the rest of them he was unfamiliar with. She would have no need for all of them. No doubt she was supplying someone with them. Perhaps the monastery. A fall of highly scented white jasmine spilled from one corner of the wrap around porch. A lush group of vines with brilliant blue blooms was opposite it.

 

He walked slowly to the back of her property taking in everything. The greenhouse in the back wasn't locked and he stepped inside. One side housed nothing but orchids. By the looks of things she was working on grafting different ones together. They were pretty and fragrant. Despite his dislike for flowers in general he could admit these would appeal to a large group and wondered if she sold them. The other long wall houses more plants, these looking far more practical. Some of them looked the same as the ones in planters and he was curious as to why.

 

The back of the house was host to a large climbing hibiscus plant that was a beautiful red color. Opposite it on the other corner was a host of deep green leaves but no flowers could be seen from where he stood.

 

Surprisingly enough no security measures appeared to have been taken. No sensors or alarms. Nothing that would give her warning if someone came to find her. Did she really think she was so well hidden here? Or did she simply no longer care?

 

Questions he mulled over as he made his way up the stairs to the door. Part of him was loathe to dirty the sanctity of her home. And no doubt that's exactly what she would see it as. But part of him refused to let her walk away so easily. He'd done that once before. Both of them had suffered for it. His hand shook as it reached out to the door knob and turned. He noted there was no lock on the door. Nothing to keep anyone out. It made his stomach clench knowing she did _nothing_ to protect herself.

 

With a deep breath he stepped inside. The wooden walls were warm. Various silks hung around the windows. The back corner to his left held what he though was a small bathroom. It was the only part of the home that had walls and a door. The bedroom stood on a raised platform in the back right corner. More silks hung around it but he could see between them to the bed pushed against a wall. The fabric waves gently in the breeze coming through the windows, giving it a nearly dream like feel.

 

The wall to the left was a small kitchen. It included necessities and a small table. The wall to his right and behind him coming to the door were full of built in bookshelves. Hundreds of books filled them. No doubt this was how she spent much of her time. Cushions sat across the floor, fat and plump and colorful. A small, low, wooden table in the middle of them marked it as a seating area. A few pictures were scattered across the shelves. A few he recognized from their time together. Mostly they were pictures of Adam though. Only a couple held both of them together. James knew how much she loved the boy. It had been evident even when he'd been at the school. Adam had always held a special place in her heart.

 

This glimpse into her life made him smile. The simplicity was all Natasha. And yet he could understand why she was comfortable here. It wasn't until the sound of water cut off he realized it was coming from the room he assumed was a bathroom. Even though he was already intruding, he didn't want to make it worse than it had to be and remained where he was, just inside the door.

 

The light teal silk robe stuck to her still damp skin as she tied it around her. Using the wet towel, she towel dried her hair as she stepped from the bathroom. Stopping short when she laid eyes on him her motions paused. Why was he still here? A sigh and a roll of her eyes. It didn't matter what he was doing here. He needed to leave. Without a word she crossed to the raised platform, stepping onto the edge without looking back.

 

“ _Ty moy, i ya tvoy, i ya vsegda budu lyubit’ tebya.”_ You are mine and I am yours and I will love you always. The words she'd spoken to him years ago. Words he'd repeated. They'd both meant it at the time. But nothing lasted forever. There was no such thing as always. Still, the words made her turn to look at him.

 

“Was it a lie Natasha? Were those words a lie?”

 


	3. Chapter 3

“Was it a lie Natasha? Were those words a lie?”

Struggling, she tried to find an answer that would appease him that didn't require lying. Lies were too easily caught and even after all this time she wouldn't risk him knowing she was lying to him. Towel dropped to the ground and arms dropped to her sides.

“It was true at the time,” she answered finally. “Now get out.” Natasha didn't wait for his answer but turned on her heel and ducked behind the curtains that gave her the imitation of privacy. At this point she couldn't get out of here fast enough. If she was lucky he'd just leave. Otherwise she would and he could entertain himself. Robe dropped to the floor at the same time he stepped onto the platform. There was no point trying to hide so she didn't, instead moving to a small chest to pull a t shirt out. It wasn't one of Clint's old ones, but it was big and baggy and hid her well enough. It's what she usually slept in these days. Sleeping naked no longer appealed and hadn't for years. One more thing she didn't look at too deeply. She could feel his eyes on her even as the shirt slid into place.

His breath caught at the sight of her. No one had ever stirred him the way she had. Cotton settled into place, covering her, but it was seared into his brain. Any rebuttal he'd been planning to make at her words was gone. Mouth had gone dry and his fingers itched to touch her.

“You're still here.”

It took a moment but that smile that had disarmed so many women was on his lips. “It would have been a shame to have missed that.”

Unfortunately for him that look had rarely, if ever, worked on her. She had been immune to the charm he turned off and on so easily. But she'd never been immune to the man himself. “I need you to go.” The N word. Something she loathed saying.

“I don't want to.” It was plainly honest. He took a step towards her. “I never wanted to.”

Why did he continue to do this? The past was the past and it needed to stay there. They were past. There was no future for them. Why couldn't he see that? “Bond,” she said in exasperation, “please leave. Don't make me ask again.”

Another few steps. The space wasn't big and retreating only led to spaces better left alone. Her bed wasn't where she wanted to be right now. He was only a few steps away now. The scent she always associated with him was all around her now. No turned Earth to cover it and the breeze suddenly seemed nonexistent. Her heart seemed to stop in her chest and she forgot how to breathe.

“Natasha.” James closed the distance between them his hand reaching out to touch her. Fingers grazing her shoulder to her neck then his hand cupped her cheek. “Don't make me go.”

The dam she'd built up against emotion was weakening. The walls she'd put around her when he left were beginning to crumble. All those years shutting it away, keeping herself separate from it were wasted. Because, as always, as soon as he touched her she felt everything keenly. Eyes closed. If she didn't look at him then maybe he wouldn't see the truth. See that she had missed him so badly that she would rather not feel anything than feel the pain of that. Feel the pain and emptiness left behind from their parting.

What he wanted to do was shove her against the wall and have her. Claim her as he had so many times before. Prove to her and everyone that _she was his_. Mark her body as a right of passage, marking his territory. But that would never fly now. Not like it had before when she welcomed him with open arms, laughing at the marks he left on her. Occasionally sending him pictures of his handiwork she knew would amuse him. Lord but he missed those days. Why had they parted again?

Bond dipped his head, daring to brush his lips against hers. Either she would kick his ass on the way out the door or she wouldn't. But there was only one way to find out.

For the first time in years she felt warm in her center. Didn't feel the cold that never seemed to go away even in the tropical heat. He was her soulmate. The piece of her that was missing. But suddenly here it was. Natasha leaned against him before she could think about it, the feel of his mouth on hers bringing back a rush of emotions and memories so powerful she shook with it. His name nearly escaped her but she choked it back the sound coming as a small whimper instead. She hated the sound and it brought her back to reality. With a shove to his shoulders she pushed him to arm's length, ending the kiss. Breath was far too fast and hard. Evidence of the effect he still had on her. It was pathetic really. The one person in the world that could hurt her like no other was the only one who made her feel like she wasn't half empty.

Her reaction set off a chain reaction inside of him. Pure joy, relief and love flaring to life. It wasn't as lost a cause as she wanted him to believe. She wasn't as lost as she thought. Not to him. Just as she'd brought him back from the brink more than once when his demons threatened to consume him he was pulling her back from the ledge she was standing on. Even when she pushed him back it didn't fade. Oh no, the flush on her face, the was she was looking at him with fire in her eyes, the breathing that was far too fast and shallow. All of it was proof.

“ _Ty moy, i ya tvoy, i ya vsegda budu lyubit’ tebya._ ” It remained true to this day, a decade later, for both of them. “Dammit Natasha, stop pretending it isn't true.” Her body always did betray her faster than anything else where he was concerned. No matter how mad she was at him he only needed to touch her to move past the anger. She'd hated it even then. That he could turn it all so fast.

“You need to leave,” whispered Natasha. Fear was showing in her eyes now and he hated that. Far too often she retreated when she knew her heart was at risk.

“Oh I think that's the last thing I need to do.” Bond was in her space again, hands cupping her face. “I used to dream about this. About finding you again.” His voice was low and soft matching her own. “Used to dream that I didn't lose you.”

Her eyes closed and she tried to slow her galloping heart. “Please don't do this to me.”

“I like you very much alive Natasha.” Even if she made him walk away. As long as she was alive and well he would be ok. “I don't know if the world needs us any more, but I still need you.”

Her head shook in denial and she refused to look at him. A sure sign he was digging far deeper than she wanted him to know. Part of him wanted to take it slow. Keep her from shying away. Ease her into it much as he had done the first time. Let her grow accustomed to the idea. The rest of him knew they'd wasted far too much time already.

“I love you Natasha,” he said against her mouth, “I've always loved you.” Not giving her a chance to protest he kissed her again. Slowly. Gently. Wanting her to weigh the truth of his words. Wanting her to _know_. There was no turning back. He was all in. He wanted her. The love of his life. The woman he'd wanted to marry. The woman no one else had ever come close to touching in his heart. And if it took him the rest of his life to convince her of that then so be it.


	4. Chapter 4

“I love you Natasha,” he said against her mouth, “I've always loved you.” Not giving her a chance to protest he kissed her again. Slowly. Gently. Wanting her to weigh the truth of his words. Wanting her to _know_. There was no turning back. He was all in. He wanted her. The love of his life. The woman he'd wanted to marry. The woman no one else had ever come close to touching in his heart. And if it took him the rest of his life to convince her of that then so be it.

 

Feebly she pushed at him. This would only lead to disaster. Look at where it led the first time. To her complete and utter heartbreak. That's where it had led. Even at the resort she'd known it was possible. From the beginning Natasha had known a relationship between them was a terrible idea. The longer they were together the more combustible they became. Water and potassium metal. The explosion and blow back had been beautiful and painful. And she'd never recovered from it.

 

“Bond, please stop. You need to leave.” The words were a plea now. She wouldn't survive this. Not again. It had destroyed her last time. Left her the shell of the person she had been. “I can't do this again.”

 

“I'm not leaving.” Whether he meant now or ever again she didn't know. But it didn't matter because neither of them had thought they would end up where they were the first time. Hands tightened on her face. “ _I'm not leaving._ ”

 

So much time wasted between them. So much pain and heartache. All of it could have been avoided. They were both guilty. Each one of them locked into their own little world and refusing to leave it. Refusing to give when they should have, each thinking the other should be the one to make the sacrifice.

But that wasn't how love or life worked. None of that could be changed. None of the pain could be erased. And she wasn't willing to make the jump now. Not again.

 

Her words fell on deaf ears, his mouth covering hers again. She was right here. Within his reach. And it had been forever since that happened. He wanted to weep with it. The feel of her. Her resolve was weakening and he could feel it.

 

“I'll never leave you again,” he swore in a hushed voice. “I was stupid. And arrogant. None of it was worth losing you. _None of it._ ”

 

Her body had always been a traitor, always craved his touch. Her heart was questioning everything. Her brain was screaming at her to get away, get out of reach. He could always break her down, always use her body against her. She didn't want this. Didn't want the pain.

 

But his lips on her were gentle, coaxing her own into responding. Hands fisted at her sides while every part of her went to war with each other. Brain screaming warnings while he soul sought his out. The connection they'd shared had been deep before. Now it was barely a thread but each second he touched her another was added. It was growing rapidly again, tying them together completely once more.

 

“Let me love you Natasha,” he begged. There was no room for shame here now. No room for pride. Neither one of the was fully alive without the other. And hadn't they been half dead long enough?

 

She whimpered. This place had never felt like home to her no matter what she did to it. Not until now. Until he was here. Filling her up with parts of him. Arms found their way around his neck as she returned the kiss. Even after all this time she still needed this man. Needed him to remind her how to feel alive.

 

There was no time for celebration. He wrapped his arms around her, hauling her in tightly against him. She was life. His life. They were connected and always had been. “Natasha,” he managed between kisses.

 

“Shut up,” she demanded. Who was he to argue? The shirt was over her head and cast aside in second, hands roaming the body he'd known so well. The changes were there. A softness to her curves. New scars. But the old scars remained and his fingers found them. Tracing their lengths easily. If he thought he'd forgotten he'd been wrong. Every woman after her had been _nothing_. A fact he couldn't deny if he wanted to.

 

Her hands weren't still, pulling his shirt over his head and letting it drop to the floor. Familiar skin under her fingers once more. She noted each new scar. Each new change. But he still felt perfect to her. Palms rounded across his shoulders to pull him closer.

 

Bond gripped her ass, hauling her up against him, holding her up as she shuffled them to the bed. They went down less than gracefully but neither one cared. Breaking apart only long enough for him to get rid of the pants he wore, he dropped down over her again, mouth immediately finding hers. This wouldn't last as long as he'd like but right now it didn't matter. Right now all that mattered was her, here, under him. Fingers found her center and she cried out, body arching up into him. She was ready for him but he wanted to savor this. Let his own body remember hers. Her heels found his lower back and urged him closer. It was an invitation he couldn't resist.

 

James swallowed her cries as he slid into her. “Dear God Natasha,” he managed, the words choked. It still felt right. Perfect. Their bodies fitting together as they never had with anyone else. The connection flared bright, blinding, as it came fully to life once more. He began to move, a hand reaching between them to her.

 

“No,” she said fiercely her had grabbing his wrist tightly, “You don't get that.” Maybe he was getting the rest of her, but that was the final wall. The final defense.

 

Instead of arguing he kissed her hard. Hands cupped her face again as he drove into her. Natasha urged him on, breathed words of encouragement and breathless sounds in his ear. Was it disappointing she wouldn't give him that last part of her? Of course. But he knew the door had been opened and he wasn't going to give up. Wasn't going to allow it to close again.

 

The sounds she made only urged him on and he was happy to oblige. “Natasha....” he could feel his climax rising. “Say it.” The same words he'd said at the resort the night they fell in love. “Say my name Natasha.”

 

Her body was tight under him as she fought the rising tide. The words washed over her, took her back to that night. Them pressed against the wall as he drove into her. His need had infected her then. Saying it would cement what was happening now.

 

“James,” she whispered as he jerked against her. The orgasm was strong, hard and shook his whole body. The sound of his name coming from her filled him was a warm feeling. There was hope in it. Bond collapsed on top of her. Natasha's arms went around him, holding him close. Right now she refused to examine it. To think about it. Tomorrow she could forget about it. Pretend it had never happened. Right now his weight was welcome. His warmth thawing out places she had forgotten existed inside of her.

 

After a while he gathered her in his arms and rolled them over. It was then she realized night had fallen while they were together. He held her close, a hand brushing the hair away from her face as he'd done a thousand times before. Then it traveled in a lazy line down her back, heading back up when he reached the end of her spine. Slowly, lazy strokes against her skin that lulled her to sleep. The emotional upheaval he'd cause leaving her exhausted.

 

Her body grew heavy as she slipped off to sleep but he didn't move. Didn't stop touching her. Didn't even dare to take a deep breath. She was here. With him. He didn't want to give that up. Not even for sleep. No doubt she was already planning how she would handle this in the morning. Another battle to be fought because the woman didn't know how to give in. To believe things could be good.

 

In this case, he couldn't exactly blame her. The road ahead was going to be difficult at best. Regaining the trust they'd shared would take time and a lot of work. But he wanted it. Wanted her. Life was nothing without her. James could only hope she would feel the same way.

 

He didn't know how long it was before he drifted off, content to have her in his arms again.

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Warmth amid the breeze. That was the first thing she was aware of as she slowly came awake. The second was how bright it was. And _that_ was enough to bring her fully awake though she remained still. Eyes squinted into the sunlight and she realized multiple things at once. First it was at least mid morning. Second his arms were still around her. And third he was asleep behind her. His even breathing and the loose way his arms held her said he wasn’t awake yet. Chances were good as soon as she moved that would change.

 

Natasha hadn’t slept past dawn in more years than she could count. In fact, she hadn’t slept more than a few hours every night in several years. These days she couldn’t force herself to go many days at a time until she slept, but sleep was not a good place for her. It was never restful. It was a place to be tolerated until her body would wake again and the whole thing would start over.

 

Mercilessly, the last 24 hours came flooding back to her. Eyes squeezed closed tightly against the memories. Apparently when it came to him, all she was capable of were stupid decisions. Christ when would she learn? She must have moved, must have made a sound because his arms tightened around her. Lips pressed against her shoulder gently then the back of her neck.

 

“Don’t go,” he whispered against her skin. He’d read her mind. All she could think about was the need to escape. Get away from this. “Stay here, with me.”

 

She tried to take her time, make it look like she wasn’t running when she was. Her promise to him not to run away had ended when they parted. There was no reason for her to honor anything now. “I have to go to the bathroom.” When she inched away from him he resisted a moment then let her go with a sigh. No doubt he wasn’t fooled by such a thing. He never was where she was concerned. Eventually he let her go and she slipped from the bed without another word. Snatching her robe from the floor she pulled it on, tying it tightly as if it were some kind of armor.

 

Foot hit the floor as she dropped down, the same time Adam came through the front door. Apparently her house had become Grand Central Station the last few days. Before he could speak Bond cleared the curtains, thankfully wearing pants and pulling his shirt over his head. Natasha bit back a groan of frustration. It was bad enough she would have to deal with this, but she didn’t need to have to deal with it from Adam’s side as well. A quick escape to the bathroom before she returned.

 

“ _YA lyublyu tebya moyo syn_ ,” she said softly, “But you should not be here.”

 

Adam grinned at her, brushing hair out of his eyes before kissing her on the cheek. “You tell me that about a lot of things. But I had to make sure we weren’t getting rid of a body.” The words were casual, but something about them rang true, as if he hadn't been entirely positive she wouldn't kill Bond. He sat the bags he was carrying on the small kitchen table. “I brought breakfast. I know you didn’t eat yesterday. Again.” His last words chided her and she rolled her eyes.

 

“I’ve lived a long time without you hovering over me like a mother hen.”

 

“Obviously _someone_ needs to.” The emphasis wasn’t lost on anyone. “Who forgets to eat? No one. Just you.”

 

With a hand she shooed him away, shooting him a firm scowl. Before she could speak Bond said, “Some things never change then. She’s always forgotten to eat if someone didn’t remind her.”

 

“I’m standing right here.”

 

“I can see you,” he assured her, completely ignoring her implication.

 

“Mom,” Adam cajoled, “Come on. _Jauk_ , _pa-tong-goh_ and _khanom khrauk_ from your favorite place.” Traditional breakfast fare: rice porridge, fried donuts and mini pancakes. The latter two of the list were more his style and he got a double order of each for himself. Natasha wasn’t sure her stomach would handle it right now. “And if you clean your bowl I have mangosteens.”

 

That earned him another look and he laughed. “I still remember all those times you made me clean my plate you know. Peas. _Yuck_.” Another kiss to her cheek, still with that grin. “Don’t worry, you can yell at me in a little while.”

 

As he unpacked the food it was clear he had expected to find Bond there. Three helpings of everything. Well, everything except the mangosteens. Those had obviously been just for her. A favorite fruit with a very short growing season. He ignored her scowl at him as he gathered the sauces and anything else needed from her kitchen. Including a syrup that obviously wasn’t normal to this part of the world. When he sat he said conversationally, “Doesn’t look like you made it to your morning yoga.” At the grumble of irritation she gave he shot her an innocent look. “When’s the last time you slept in so late?” One of those mini pancakes was popped into his mouth to hide a grin.

 

“I swear to God Adam…” the threat trailed off. If she could get away with strangling him right now she would. How he had inherited her attitude when she didn’t give birth to him was beyond her. Nothing she could do now except surrender. Adam wasn’t going to allow her any peace right now. “You might as well sit down too,” she growled at Bond. “He’s not going to be happy until you do.” His stubborn streak might not have been genetically inherited from her, but it was all hers nonetheless. No way she could deny it.

 

With a grin he had the grace to try to hide, Bond sat. “Thank you,” he told Adam. Natasha didn’t want to know if he meant for breakfast, for the interference this morning, or for taking matters into his own hands.

 

A cup of fragrant tea appeared in front of her and if she wasn't so annoyed at the whole thing she would have thanked him. When he was younger they had a tradition of sitting on the patio at her NYC brownstone in the mornings, her with her tea and him usually with a bowl of cereal. Quiet time together until she had started taking on more and more jobs.

 

“They were already out of your usual when I got there,” he told her, “So you're going to have to suffer through that one I guess.” No doubt he'd chosen something else she liked.

 

“You were up awful early,” she accused. “And busy.”

 

“One of us had to be,” he answered smoothly as he sat silverware down.

 

Bond watched the two interacting with more than a small pang of regret. This could have been a typical morning for them.... something he could have shared in had things not gone the way they did. Not for the first time he wondered if they had tried hard enough or had they allowed old habits of turning away to avoid getting hurt to take over? A family he'd craved lost to time...

 

Without speaking she reached over and squeezed Adam's hand. No matter how frustrated or annoyed she loved the boy. It was something he knew. Something that eased some of the pain as he watched her slip away from him. When she shut herself down he knew it hadn't been him, hadn't been his fault. What would life had been like if things had gone differently? He wouldn't lie. It was something he thought about frequently.

 

Natasha had nothing to say. As soon as breakfast was over she could kick Bond out and get on with her life. A one night stand together didn't change things, no matter what either of them might think. Adam continued with his chatter and she spoke when it was required of her. But her head was spinning with everything and her heart was in turmoil. Why couldn't he just leave her in peace? Why did he always have to turn her life upside down?

 

When she had finished more than half of her breakfast she pushed from the table, clearing her space as she went. “Mom, I'll do it.” Adam was looking at her now, worry on his face. Maybe he'd hoped for something smoother. Maybe he was feeling the chaos storming inside of her.

 

“I've got it Adam,” she gave a small, half smile to the boy. “Finish your breakfast.” She kissed the top of his head, ruffling his hair. “We'll go swimming later, all right?”

 

He perked up at that a broad smile splitting his face. “The reef?”

 

“The reef?” Seeing him happy made her smile fully. “We'll pack a lunch for it, ok?” He nodded, happily stuffing more mini pancakes in his mouth. She looked up, blue eyes finding Bond's face. “I will assume you can find your way out when you're done.” Saying nothing more she headed for the bedroom to get dressed. They had enough time to go grab the things for lunch and get the boat out on the water. Maybe they would stay out over night. That would also keep Bond away.

 

Robe hit the floor and she selected a swimsuit then pulled it on. Adding a pair of shorts and a tank top over it, she was set for the day over all. They'd grab the gear on the way out and life would be good.

 

The sound of him stepping up onto the platform made her sigh wearily. “What now Bond?”

 

“Natasha....” It hurt him that she was back to using is surname. Holding his own sigh him check he approached carefully. “I don't want to interrupt any plans you have with Adam.”

 

“But...?” she interrupted as she turned to face him.

 

“But nothing.” This distance between them physically was only a few steps. But it was miles emotionally and mentally. “I won't interrupt.” She wouldn't forgive that. “When you get back though.... give me three days. I never got the three you offered me originally. Three days Natasha.”

 

Three days. It was an offer she'd made him at the resort. Three days where she wouldn't fight him. Three days where they weren't at each other's throats constantly. Three days. He'd only gotten one and a half really. Then the job had gone south and needed to be handled. But it had been hours of him tearing her down and building her back up, only to tear her down again. The time hadn't passed painlessly for her then either.

 

“Three days Natasha, give me that.” He could only hope she wouldn't tell him no outright. Bond wasn't sure how to handle it if she did. There was only so far he could go. At some point she was going to have to meet him part way. It didn't have to be in the middle, but she couldn't resist him completely. If she did then this really was a lost cause. “If nothing's changed after three days I'll go. And I'll never darken your doorstep again.” He kissed her cheek then backed up. “Just think about it. Three days.” Then he turned away and was gone.

 

A few words exchanged with Adam and she heard the door open and close.

 

“Mom? Are you ok?”

 

His voice was just outside the fall of silk and it was enough to prompt her to step down. “I'm fine Adam.”

 

“Are you going to do it?” he asked, unable to keep the hope out of his voice.

 

 _No_. The word was there but wouldn't pass her lips no matter how hard she tried. Finally she threw an arm around him. “Come on, let's go see if we can find some fish for dinner, all right?”  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> This started off as a role play on Tumblr. Unfortunately my writing partner and I have parted ways, so this will be finished by me alone.


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